What is Family?
by Jack Of Some Trades
Summary: Harry's changed over the summer. He's grown, both taller and stronger, and his appetite has increased. Normal puberty or something else? Crossover with... you'll find out.
1. The Letter from the Werewolf

Harry looked out the window in disgust. His cousin and foster-brother (though he pretended that that fact didn't exist) was outside flirting with the pretty girls that walked down the street from time to time.

Aside from the fact that Dudley was the approximate size, shape, and weight of a Volkswagen Beetle, he was also extremely sexist and having a quite disagreeable personality. Most of his comments were along the lines of "My stomach's not the biggest part of me, you know," or "I can't see below my waist, can I try yours?"

The only reason Harry was watching this… disgusting, to say the least… mockery of the mating habits of humankind was a complete lack of anything better to do. He'd completed all the homework he was given for the summer (Potions was particularly easy, as it was about the Wolfsbane Potion. He only had to write Professor Lupin about it) and whenever he went downstairs, his uncle or aunt (his foster-parents; he liked to ignore this fact too) gave him more work to do. Every day, he was assigned far more gruesome tasks than the day before, often requiring physical skill Uncle Vernon expected Harry not to have, and every day he finished them before dinner.

Suddenly, Harry was knocked from his thoughts by his door opening. Harry wasn't quite sure how, but Uncle Vernon seemed to have the uncanny ability to slam a door _open_.

"You!" Harry's uncle spat.

"Me," Harry agreed.

Vernon turned purple…r and started towards Harry. Harry, a little alarmed, stood to his full height, and crossed his arms over his chest. Vernon, now shorter than his nephew, gulped and stopped moving. Seeing his uncle wasn't going to start their no doubt fun conversation, he said, "Yes?"

Uncle Vernon snapped himself out of his trance and held up a letter. It was written on old looking parchment in green ink. "What is the meaning of _this_?" he spat.

Harry looked at it. "Looks like a letter. What is it?"

"It's a letter. Read."

Harry took the letter from his uncle. Vernon stood glaring at him the entire time he read.

__

Dear Mr Dursley,

You likely don't remember me. We met briefly at Lily and James' wedding. I think I remember seeing you there. Your wife was one of the bridesmaids.

My name is Remus Lupin; I was one of Harry's professors at school. I'm writing to request permission to take Harry for the rest of the summer. He's at an awkward age right now in his abilities, as well as in his life, and he needs to know more about his parents. With all due respect, I knew them better than you did, and I can offer him the kind of help he needs. Without it, he might just blow the roof off your house! Just kidding, of course.

This letter is all he needs to get to my house, if you choose to send him. Please consider it and send return owl by the end of the month.

Yours truly,

Remus J Lupin

"Well?" Vernon said once he thought Harry was through the letter.

"I was right. It's a letter," Harry observed. "So can I go?"

Vernon made a sound, something between a grunt and a whine. He didn't want Harry there, that was for sure. However, he also didn't want Harry where he could be taught more of that… unnaturalness. He weighed the consequences in his mind.

"If I send you," he started very carefully, "just what would you be learning?"

Harry shrugged. He honestly didn't know. "Probably defensive stuff. Mostly against animals, I think."

"Mm-hmm," Uncle Vernon replied, as if he didn't believe Harry. "And this… Lumpin fellow… he's not that godfather of yours, is he?"

"Sirius?" Vernon winced as Harry said his name. "No, Professor Lupin isn't Sirius… but they did run in the same pack." Only Harry got the joke behind that, as Vernon was completely unaware of the canine qualities of the remaining Marauders.

"Well, what does he mean about getting there?" Vernon enquired. Harry was starting to feel like part of the Spanish Enquisition, which he didn't expect.

"I don't know. I assume the letter is some kind of Portkey," Harry guessed. He instantly regretting mentioning anything magical.

"Portkey?" Uncle Vernon wrinkled his nose at the name.

"It takes you somewhere instantly, like those transporter things on Star Trek," Harry explained. Vernon instantly backed away from Harry and the letter. "Don't worry, it has to be activated."

"Well it's not being activated in my house!" he yelled, startling the sleeping Hedwig. However, as if she sensed the severity of the situation, she kept her beak shut.

"Fine. I'll just go somewhere else to activate it. I'm sure Sirius would love to hear about his godson running off to God knows where to get to his teacher's house."

Vernon's face couldn't have been funnier if Harry had activated the Portkey right in front of him. His mouth was working like some great purple fish, and his eyes narrowed to be almost invisible. Harry was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Fine." This was said with great effort. "Fine. You can go. But before you start celebrating, you will work until your… thing… activates. You will do whatever I ask, whenever I ask. Understood?"

Harry hid his emotions well. "Okay." It wasn't as if anything Uncle Vernon was making him do was turning into any real work anyway. "I'll write Professor Lupin and Sirius and tell them I can go."

Vernon smiled. He liked when things went his way in some form or another. "Good. You do that."

~*~

Vernon wasn't kidding when he told Harry he'd be working him until Lupin arrived. He had him doing everything. When Harry got up (he was given an alarm clock so he would be up early) he went downstairs to get breakfast ready by the time everyone else got up. That wasn't too bad, as the house was still on Dudley's diet. It usually amounted to a bowl of oatmeal with no sugar. Uncle Vernon was unable to criticise Harry though, as his oatmeal was better than his aunt's was.

Next Harry has some random job around the house; organise the basement, clean the attic, pick up Dudley's room, or something not too different from that. Lunch came after he was done, and he was always done in time for lunch. He wasn't quite sure why, but his appetite had grown considerably over the summer. He would often sneak as much food as he could get away with during the middle of the night. The problem with that was the fact that Petunia was buying little to avoid tempting Dudley.

After lunch came the manual labour. He was often told to move huge rocks around the yard just for the sake of moving them, spreading fertiliser on Aunt Petunia's flower bed, or dig up trees and move them so Dudley could get more shade while harassing the neighbour girls.

Professor Lupin, in his return letter, had said that his Portkey would activate at 11:00 am on July seventeenth. That gave Harry exactly five days left in Hell.

About three days from salvation, while working in the front garden, he became aware of a small but growing group of females on the sidewalk. Every time he turned around to check on them, they were staring in random directions: the sky, the ground, the street, or the pig in a wig. It wasn't until later that night, when getting out of the shower, did Harry realise the possibility of them staring at _him_.

Harry stood dumbstruck in front of the mirror at that point. He hadn't noticed much, but the scrawny boy under the stairs was long gone. Instead, a tall, lean figure was reflected in the foggy glass. He was tanned from the time spent outside, and while he was likely of only slightly above average height, it was still an enormous shock. He had been relatively short, which was an advantage in Quidditch.

"Boy, if you're not out there by the time I count to ten…" Vernon let the threat hang as he pounded on the door. Sighing, Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and went to his room. He was almost unaware of the look of fear in Dudley's piggy eyes; magic apparently wasn't the only thing keeping Dudley from attacking him now.

As dressed for bed and laid down, thoughts started running through his head. _I've only been working for a couple weeks. Why did I shape up so quickly? Where did that growth spurt come from?_

His green eyes finally closed, and Harry eventually drifted off. However, one thought wouldn't leave him alone. It wasn't anything new, as a matter of fact it was a thought that plagued him most nights. _I wonder what my _real_ family was like…_


	2. Of Owls and Broomsticks

**__**

Disclaimer: The idea behind this story may or may not be mine. The characters used within may or may not be mine. The storyline may or may not be mine. Anything that seems stolen isn't mine, but anything that makes you laugh or want to send me money is.

If his time before with the Dursleys' was Hell, then the day before the activation of the Portkey was the innermost circle of it. Aside from breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Harry was worked like a house elf. It wasn't anything he couldn't deal with, though; his new physique didn't just make him look pretty after all.

One such chore, of many, was mopping the kitchen floor. It wasn't the best idea the Dursleys had come up with during his life, as Harry ended up "accidentally" mopping himself into a corner and had to just stay there until it dried. It gave him some time to think, about things that had happened recently, and about things that hadn't. 

He hadn't felt so much as an itch coming from his scar all summer. Normally, he wouldn't think much of it. During most of his third year he barely felt a twinge, but on the other hand, the Dark Lord hadn't been resurrected at that point. He thought that he should feel _something_, but he didn't. All he felt, when he allowed himself time to feel, was remorse and guilt.

Logically, he knew that he shouldn't feel as bad as he did. Cedric's shadow didn't blame him, Cedric's parents didn't blame him, and even Snape didn't blame him. However, that didn't stop him from blaming himself. _If only I'd not tried to be so bloody noble,_ he thought often.

"You! What are you doing?" his uncle's voice bellowed from the doorway.

__

Funny, thought Harry, _I didn't hear him slam the door._ Out loud, he said, "I've mopped myself into the corner. Unless you want to run upstairs and get my broomstick, I'm trapped here."

Some combination of fear and outrage came on Vernon's face right then. "You… you will _not _speak of that… that…" He was at a loss for words. It was a first.

"Unnaturalness?" Harry offered.

"…_evil_ in my house!"

Harry stood up and glared at his uncle. Some of the outrage cooled on the older man's face, or the fear took a stronger hold. "I am _not_ evil." He walked across the now-dry kitchen floor and walked past his uncle. Vernon made no attempt to stop Harry.

When Harry was younger, he had some fear for the Dursley family. Between running from Dudley during the day, and ducking frying pans during the evenings, it was only natural. As his magical training went on, though, he found that his fear had diminished into a mild cautious feeling around them, then no more than the knowledge that he should watch what he said. When he came home after his fourth year, though, he felt nothing for them. He did chores and they fed him.

It was more than power, though. It was realisation. He realised that the Dursleys weren't worthy of fear, not after standing against the Dark Lord.

Harry slammed the door shut as he entered his room. He'd go without lunch for the first time in a long while, but it didn't matter. He had bits of food in his trunk somewhere when he got hungry. However, he didn't feel that sugar quills and chocolate frogs were part of a well-balanced diet.

"Ugh," he complained aloud. "What I really want right now is roast beef." That had been one of his favourite foods at Hogwarts; the house elves were superb cooks.

No sooner had he said his request to no one in particular had a roast beef sandwich appeared on a plate beside him. "Thanks," he said, not thinking about it. Then, "What the Hell?"

"Harry Potter is quite welcome, sir. Dobby is happy to be doing things for Harry Potter," said a voice from beneath the plate. Harry lifted it up to discover a familiar house elf in a mismatched outfit.

"Dobby? What are you doing here?" Harry asked incredulously. He had an urge to poke him to make sure he was real.

"Dobby is here to help Harry Potter. Professor Moony tell Dobby to come help Harry Potter to be getting his possessions to Professor Moony's house. Professor Moony is taking Harry Potter away from mean family," he explained in his simple manner.

"Uh… right. Well, Dobby, my clothes are in my trunk over there. Do you need help getting it?"

"No!" Dobby was adamant. "The Great and Kind Harry Potter doesn't need to help Dobby! Dobby is able." As if to prove it, he went over to Harry's trunk and lifted it above his head and disappeared with it. _There goes the problem of how to get my stuff there,_ Harry thought.

~*~

Vernon had told Harry that morning exactly what he expected him to do. After lunch (Harry ate better than anyone else in the house, and was somewhat content with that in itself) he was to move the compost heap that Petunia had been collecting since the beginning of time. It was the filthiest thing on the property.

The small wheelbarrow they'd provided was less help that it could have been. The wheel was slightly off-centre, and putting too much in or making too sharp a turn resulted in the whole thing turning over.

When Harry was about halfway through the task, his ears were violently assaulted by a shrill voice. "Boy! Put some of that on my flowers!"

__

How could my mum have been sisters with that? Harry thought. He raised his head to acknowledge her, but she was already gone. "Just as well," Harry muttered.

Harry considered lying and saying he'd done the new task, but if they found out then the next summer wouldn't be pleasant. Sighing, Harry filled another load of compost and wheeled it to the front flower garden.

The group of girls that had been there the last few days had disappeared. Apparently Harry's larger-than-life (literally) cousin had scared them off. Harry really preferred it that way, though, as he could get the job done without having to worry about giggly hormone queens staring at his bum.

"If Snape could see me now," Harry muttered, spreading compost on the flowers, taking special care around the roses to avoid cutting himself. It wasn't really a safety issue, but Petunia would make quite a lot of noise if he bled all over her pretty flowers, and his ears were getting rather sensitive lately.

He worked for a while, eventually emptying the wheelbarrow. He went to get more, and when he got back, he saw that his "fan club" had returned, or started to anyway. Two girls, one blonde and one brunette, were standing there giggling. Not for the first time, he thought that giggling should be made illegal.

Work, work, work, work, work… it was getting rather monotonous. Every once in a while, though, Harry would look to see if the girls had left or if more had arrived. _Honestly, is there nothing else in this town to do?_

Suddenly, Harry felt an odd thump on his rear. He turned around to see a silver coin sitting innocent looking in the grass. A sub-group of the girls were giggling even harder. Blushing furiously, Harry rushed through the rest of the work, picked up the coin, shoved the wheelbarrow in the tool shed and went inside. He could still hear the giggling. _Illegal._

~*~

After a shower, which everyone in the house insisted he take (Harry included), Harry rushed down to the dinner table dressed in clean clothes. He was subjected to the usual routine from Petunia and Dudley: get a haircut, why can't you be more like us, and so forth. Vernon, however, was oddly silent. Harry just assumed either his uncle was glad to be rid of him soon, or his show about the broomstick paid off. He didn't really care; he just wanted something to eat.

"Rabbit food," Vernon complained when Petunia set his salad in front of him. Harry demolished it in record time, before even Dudley could finish. He knew better than to ask for seconds, and excused himself from the table, with Dudley whining that Harry got to leave while he was stuck eating lettuce. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from offering to finish Dudley's salad for him.

~*~

With all of Harry's work, he'd not yet got a chance to write to Ron or Hermione about Professor Lupin's rescue.

__

Dear Ron,

This is a quick letter to tell you that I won't be at the Dursleys' for the rest of the summer. Professor Lupin offered to come and rescue me, and I, after a large amount of thought, decided it was for the best.

I don't have a whole lot of time right now, since I want to get Hedwig out before Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia figure out I'm sending a letter. Since I only have one owl, could you tell Hermione for me?

How's your family doing? The Wheezes? How about the Cannons? We don't get a lot of Quidditch information out here.

See you soon,

Harry

It wasn't the best letter, Harry knew. Ideally, he would tell Ron about pretty much everything, but he wanted to get Hedwig out soon. The Dursleys may have been cruel, ignorant, and unattractive, but they weren't—well, they were idiots. But they weren't blind.

Hedwig flew out of sight, the full moon spreading its glistening light on her white feathers. Suddenly, Harry realised why his former teacher had set the letter to wait so long: he would be transforming tonight. He didn't want Harry to witness the horror of seeing his mentor become a nearly feral beast.

Harry sighed. _To think, I trust a werewolf more than my entire family._ He let out a sad chuckle as he climbed into bed. _Most of the world would think I'm crazy._

__

Of course, if they met the Dursleys, they'd hug him and beg him not to let them go back. 

****


	3. The Wolf's Den

**__**

Disclaimer: I own neither of the canon pieces used in this fanfiction, and anything I allude to I probably don't own either. 

Harry woke up early, fully prepared for another day of slave labour when he realised that it was the Last Day: the day he went to Professor Lupin's. However, he knew that Vernon would still keep him working until 10:59, so he wasn't too excited. Still, it was better working for half a day to be saved by a werewolf than working all day under the watchful eyes of a woman with the world's most flexible neck.

Harry dressed slowly, taking in the fact that this would be the last time until the following July that he would have to wear Dudley's hand-me-downs. They didn't cover as much of him as he would like in some places, and too much of him in others. He was tempted to put some of the Shrinking Potion he'd saved on the trousers, but there was a distinct possibility that it could… rub off in certain places.

Walking downstairs quietly to keep the Dursleys asleep as long as possible, he wondered what the rest of the summer would be like. He knew that, no doubt, it would be no easier than his summer had been thus far. What with the resurrection of the Dark Lord and all, he expected something in the way of Defence Against the Dark Arts training. It was the only way, Harry imagined, that Professor Lupin would be able to convince Dumbledore to allow him to leave the relative safety of his relatives.

__

Perhaps he'll teach me to become an Animagus… nah. Harry knew that Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail had no doubt done what they had done against Moony's wishes. Or didn't tell him. At any rate, he disapproved of it and never would have asked them.

Harry prepared breakfast with the same enthusiasm he put into everything else the Dursleys "asked" him to do (i.e., not much). However, whether in celebration of him leaving or in remembrance of their lost slave, there was more than oatmeal and grapefruit for breakfast. There was a note on the refrigerator telling him what to do.

__

Boy:

Make my coffee the same way I always want it.

There's eggs and bacon in here. Make enough for Dudley, ("Three tonnes," Harry muttered)_ your aunt and me._

After breakfast kindly disappear from sight until your thing sucks you wherever you're going. See if you can avoid coming back. Ever.

Vernon

"Well, he's honest," Harry said of his uncle. "I suppose he won't have me working all day then." _What's the term? A reprieve?_ he thought.

Harry set to the bacon, making sure not to burn it. He'd once got sentenced to the Cupboard (deserving of a capital letter not because of being ominous, but from repeated use) for a week for that. It had been rather inconvenient for Harry, who had to wait to eat until after ten, when the family went to bed (one could set their watch to that nice, respectable family).

Distracted by the need to avoid burning the food, he neglected to make sure he didn't burn himself. "Ack!" he cried as the grease hit his skin. The pain was less than he was used to from grease splatters, but he had got used to anything liquid hitting his arm shooting up flowers or boils or such like.

Harry began to put his hand in the sink to cool the burn, but he then noticed ripples in the water. Small at first, but they were growing. _Dudley must be awake,_ Harry thought. _Or there's a tyrannosaurus outside._

He dashed back to the bacon, not particularly because he was afraid of what would happen if Dudley's breakfast wasn't on the table, but mostly due to the fact that Dudley had a tendency to scream when things weren't going his way. Loudly. And then Petunia would start in, followed by Vernon, and that put a lot of strain on the young wizard's sensitive ears.

"You're making bacon," the wide boy stated as he entered his favourite room.

"Nothing gets past you," Harry retorted sarcastically, ducking a blow from Dudley without bothering to look. Dudley snorted (a derisive snort, not a pig-like snort, though Dudley was known to do both. Sometimes at the same time) and, sitting down at the table, flicked on the TV.

Harry continued cooking, vaguely aware of Petunia walking in and saying something, Vernon walking in and saying something else, the animated girl on the TV saying something that was probably far more important than anything either of them had to say, and Dudley eating. Finally, the family breakfast complete, Harry microwaved some instant oatmeal and ate standing up. The entire ordeal went by more amiably than Harry expected. Of course, the Dursleys were mostly ignoring his presence.

~*~

Earlier that morning, Harry slipped his Portkey in his back pocket. That way, if Uncle Vernon tried to overwork him into forgetting to check the time (not bloody likely, but the possibility was there) he'd be instantly taken anyway.

He only hoped it wouldn't just take his pants. The Queens of Hormones and Giggling (they _did_ get the ominous lettering) had enough fun.

~*~

At ten fifty-five, Harry ran up to his bedroom to make sure that Dobby had taken everything. He checked under his bed, under the floorboards, in the broken desk (it was an innocent bystander when Dudley had destroyed his computer for not being IBM compatible) and everywhere else he hid his food. The most he came up with was a stale sugar quill. Blueberry, incidentally.

At ten fifty-eight, he bid his "family" farewell, along with his deepest wishes of the rest of their lives being as horrible as his summer had been. They cheerfully said the same.

At ten fifty-nine, Harry slipped the quill into his mouth and waited patiently for the pull behind his navel.

At ten sixty, Harry realised there was something wrong with the Dursleys' digital clock. He would have told them, but he was taken away before his lips could form the words.

~*~

Harry hadn't really been in many magical homes. In fact, he'd only ever been in the Burrow, which as he recalled, was held up by magic and wishful thinking. Not to say he'd ever been anywhere he'd rather be; the Burrow was as close to home as Harry'd ever felt.

Lupin's was nothing at all like that, as far as he could tell from the floor he'd met face-first when he landed. It had carpet, for one thing.

"Harry!" said a happy voice. A strong pair of arms helped him off the floor and patted his shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

"Hello Professor," Harry replied, looking at his surroundings. He was really at a loss for words, as he didn't know the proper etiquette for being pulled instantly through space to the home of one of one's father's best friends who happens to transform, once a month, into a ravenous snarling beast capable of decimating an entire village. He guessed. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Professor."

Remus shrugged shyly. He looked, Harry noted, tired, but that was to be expected the first day after a full moon. "I'm not your professor anymore, Harry. You can call me Remus. Or Moony. Or the Greatest of Marauders, Superior to Padfoot. Yes, I quite like that one." That brought a chuckle from Harry, and the relative awkwardness between them disappeared rather quickly.

Moony showed Harry around the house, telling him various things about it along the way. "I bought the house only about sixteen years ago," he said, leading Harry through the hallways. "Unfortunately, I was foolish enough to let Padfoot name it."

"What's it called?" Harry asked, looking at a picture of James and Sirius standing behind Lily. They both grinned conspiratorially and kissed her on either cheek.

"Moony Manor," Remus replied, grinning. Harry laughed out loud at that at about the same time Lily shoved Prongs and Padfoot away good-naturedly. Noticing where Harry had been staring, Moony stared wistfully at that picture. "Your mother had as good a sense of humour as any of us. I suppose she'd have to, being married to James." He picked the picture of the wall and brushed his fingers against it gently. Harry got the distinct feeling his former teacher was talking more to himself than him. "Once, on April Fools' Day, Sirius got the idea to hide in London and pop out as Padfoot whenever he saw someone magic. They would scream 'Grim!' and run to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, Lily called the Muggle Animal Control people and they put him in the pound. He spent all night there until Peter and I came to get him." Harry was half surprised to hear Wormtail's name come up in Moony's reminiscing, but then, it was probably easier to remember him as a fellow Marauder than as a traitor. "Padfoot got her back though." Moony motioned to a picture further down the hall. Harry went to look at it, seeing an angry blonde woman with her wand pointed at Sirius. Harry's godfather was apparently laughing along with Remus, and Prongs was standing behind the blonde trying not to laugh. With a start, he realised who the blonde woman was. "He charmed her hair blonde," Remus said, grinning mischievously. "And she nearly killed him before James stopped her."

Moony replaced the picture on the wall and showed Harry the rest of the house. Occasionally, he would stop to point out some random Marauder Moment. Finally, when they reached the end of the tour, Harry asked something that'd been bugging him since he received the letter. "Why did you invite me here?" he blurted, not knowing any better way to put it.

"I remember your work habits at school, and your feelings about Professor Snape," Lupin said. "You wrote about that homework assignment _far_ too early, so I figured you had nothing better to do than homework."

"Least of all Snape's homework," Harry muttered.

"_Professor _Snape," Moony corrected automatically.

"As in, 'Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business'?" Harry retorted, quoting the Marauders' Map exactly.

"Er… never mind then," Moony said.

**__**

As the smarter of you have already figured out, this is indeed a Dragonball Z crossover. And yes, this does mean that James was a Saiyan. If you'd like the back-story for James, just say so in a review, and I'll post it in an interlude or something. That is, if enough people demand it. It'll come up in the story sooner or later anyway.

I have to admit I'm surprised by the amount of people who thought Harry was Kryptonian. Not a bad idea, I think. Maybe one of you should write it.


	4. Lunch, You Say?

**__**

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would have a better computer. Preferably one that doesn't delete my files, thank you very much.

Author's Note: I figured I might as well expand on the DBZ universe for fans of this story but not of the anime. For the record, you can see it at about 4:30 and 6:30 PM eastern time, right now anyway, on the Cartoon Network. And there are tapes and DVDs. At any rate, the story starts out in Dragon Ball, which revolves around Goku (Kakarot), a small boy with unusual power, a stomach that can hold more than most countries, and a tail. He goes on various adventures, making friends and enemies, and basically searching for seven Dragon Balls, mystical glass spheres which, when brought together, can summon a dragon who will grant any wish in his power. Then the balls power down for a year and the cycle starts over. It eventually moves into Dragon Ball Z, which involves Kakarot's wife, children, and friends. He meets his long-lost elder brother, Raditz, who tells him of his true race: Saiyan. He is a powerful alien from the planet Vegeta that was destroyed by Lord Freiza. The Saiyans have the ability to ascend to what is called by some as "the Legendary Transformation", or basically Super Saiyan. Their hair stands on end and turns blond, while their irises and pupils turn green and they are surrounded by a golden aura. Their heart would have to be completely pure, though. Pure good or pure evil. Kakarot turns out to be the first Saiyan in a millenium to achieve the Legendary, followed by his son and a former enemy turned friend named Vegeta (he would have been heir to the planet of the same name had it not been destroyed). Both Kakarot and Vegeta, who will eventually be the last of their species, fall in love with (though Vegeta would deny until the end of time) and marry (though there is some debate over whether or not Vegeta and his mate are truly married) human women, Chi-Chi and Bulma respectively. To put it simply, Bulma and Vegeta act like Ron and Hermione with each other.

Bulma and Vegeta have two children, Trunks and Bra. However, Trunks's birth is not the first time we meet him. A Saiyan from the future appears at one point to help Kakarot with a disease that would eventually kill him at a time when it wouldn't do to be killed. He reveals himself to be Trunks Briefs, son of Bulma and Vegeta, and by implication Prince of All Saiyans (which, in his proper time, would include only himself). In the time of Future Trunks, the world was more or less under the rule of berzerk androids and Trunks had lost his father, who died in the first battle, and everyone close to him except Kakarot's only son (in that time), Gohan. Gohan trained Trunks in martial arts and everything his father would have, but in a battle not long before Trunks left for the past, Gohan was killed. This was enough to send Trunks into the Legendary Transformation for the first time. Future Trunks was polite, honourable, and stubborn to no end.

Kakarot also had two children, Gohan (named for the man who raised Kakarot) and Goten. However, he didn't get to know Goten as well as he would have liked, as he died before Goten was born, and when his friends gathered the Dragon Balls to wish him back to life, he chose to stay dead. He felt that it was he who brought all the danger to Earth.

At any rate, this is a very short synopsis, and no where near what you'll need to know when I get around to the sequel. If you want to know what happens, just know that Harry will get to know his family.

Harry was hungry. Harry had been hungry often during the summer, what with food being in short supply and wizard snacks being a poor substitute. At least at "home", or at the Dursley's, rather, he didn't feel uncomfortable asking for food. He just saw little point in it, since they actually liked Dudley and didn't feed him.

In the Moony Manor, however, Harry had no idea exactly what to do in the case of food. He wasn't really used to being welcome in a place besides the Burrow, so he didn't really feel comfortable yet asking for anything (at the Burrow food was provided non-stop without question). Finally, at about lunchtime, Harry's stomach rumbled so loudly that Remus didn't need his improved werewolf senses to pick it up. "Hungry, Harry?" he asked with a smirk.

"A little," Harry replied sheepishly.

"Well, I suppose our tour should lead to the kitchen, then."

As they walked through the halls, Harry growing hungrier with every step, Remus started talking about one of the subjects Harry had wanted to talk about since he first knew just who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs really were. "I remember how much your father used to eat," Moony related. "He probably spent as much time with the house-elves in the kitchen as he did with your mother. I really don't know how he did it, and remained as skinny as he was. And as you are, for that matter."

It wasn't exactly all he wanted to know about his father, but it was nice to hear about it. It was the kind of thing, Harry thought, he would take for granted if he'd been raised with his parents.

It was about the time Moony finished his story that, as it often works out in this kind of story, they arrived in the kitchen. Harry had known that they were nearing it, of course, as his nose had alerted him sometime ago. However, as much as he would have liked to dash to there at impossible speeds, he felt it more important to listen to his mentor's tale.

They entered, and before Harry could even start to salivate over the food, he was hit in the vicinity of his torso by a flying house-elf. "_Dobby?_" Harry wheezed incredulously. As incredulously as one can sound whilst wheezing, anyway.

"Yes, Dobby is here to take care of Harry Potter while he is at Professor Moony's," Dobby said excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore said to Dobby, 'You are to be taking care of Harry Potter! He is needing you!' So Dobby is here!"

"Er… right." Harry wondered briefly just what Hermione would think of Harry more or less having his own house-elf for the summer. He imagined it wouldn't be pleasant. "Are you being, you know, paid?"

"Of course Professor Dumbledore is paying Dobby! Dobby gets the same he gets at Hogwarts, but Dobby would take care of the great Harry Potter for free, sir!"

"Dobby," Remus interrupted, "why don't you get Harry and me something to eat?"

"Oh!" Dobby looked embarrassed that he had forgotten. "Right away, Professor Moony!"

As Dobby made trips to and from the dining room, Harry turned to Remus. "'Professor Moony?'" he said dubiously.

Moony shrugged. "I wanted him to call me Moony, he wanted to call me Professor Lupin, so we compromised."

A small but loud voice came from the dining room informing them that lunch was ready. As he saw the spread on the table, Harry thought at the same time _Is this all for us?_ and _I could eat this. _He sat down, taking care to not become completely ravenous, and took some potatoes and chicken. Well, not so much _some_ chicken as _a_ chicken.

~*~

Three chickens, four bowls of potatoes, and two and a half pies later, Harry wiped his mouth and met his former teacher's wide-eyed stare. "Finished."

"You think?" Remus responded, somewhere between amused and completely and utterly astounded. "Really, you don't want any more?"

Harry looked at the remains of the food. "No, I think I'm good."

Remus waved his wand at the table and watched the dishes float into the kitchen. "You are your father's son, Harry," he said, grinning. "But I think you could have given him a run for his money."

Harry chuckled a bit, not knowing entirely what to say. He didn't have to, however, since an owl came in the window and sat at the table. Or rather, fell onto the table and twitched occasionally.

"Is it dead?" Remus asked as Harry took the letter that was attached to the owl.

"No, just ancient," Harry replied as he opened Errol's post.

__

Dear Harry,

You're staying with Professor Lupin? Cool! Wish I was there.

Did you hear? Well, you wouldn't have heard, living with the Muggles. The Cannons are first in the league! For the first time in over a century! They've apparently got a new Keeper and Captain. Wouldn't it be crazy if it was Wood? The twins say he's the only one that could train the Cannons that well, and the only one crazy enough to take it on.

Privately, Harry was inclined to agree.

__

I told Hermione you were with Professor Lupin, and she'll probably send you a letter with Pig soon. She didn't go to Bulgaria, you know. Her parents saw the Skeeter article in a Daily Prophet she lent to them and they didn't "feel comfortable" with it. Slimy Bulgarian git. Maybe he'll consider someone who isn't four bloody years younger than he is.

Harry laughed at this line, and wondered when either Ron or Hermione would see the fact that they were meant to be.

__

Mum's telling me to tell you that the family's fine. And Fred and George are telling me to tell you to be careful with anything you eat when you get back to school. I think they've made you official guinea pig. They've been alright this summer, though. They bought me new dress robes, not a touch of lace or_ maroon._

Anyway, I've got to go. Hope Errol makes it before school starts. I would have sent Pig, but the twins stole Hedwig to send you a letter, so I had to send Pig to Hermione. I doubt Errol would have made the trip.

See you later,

Ron

"What is it?" Moony asked when Harry looked finished with the letter.

"Ron's just writing me back. Apparently Fred and George Weasley decided that I'm their new test subject for whatever pranks they think up."

"Ah," Remus said, a mischievous glint coming into his eyes. "Yes, I remember them. They were like the Marauders at our best. You know, that Marauders Map was really something we were planning to sell after school. But then we got caught up in the War, and… you know."

"Yeah." There was little else he could say. "Wait, you were going to _sell _it?" He was glad they didn't. It turned up a couple days after the summer started on his desk somehow. He strongly felt that Professor Dumbledore had something to do with it.

The little bit of sadness that had crept into Moony's voice vanished. "'Marauders Mischief Making Supply'. It was James's idea. He thought that everyone should be able to have fun at school and avoid teachers while doing it."

Remus went on for a while, talking about what they would have sold and to whom. They would have been an equal-opportunity vendor; even the more adventurous Slytherins would have been welcome. To Harry, Remus looked fifteen years younger, daydreaming about what the future would hold, instead of what the past might have held.

~*~

Dinner went well, with Harry eating about the same he did at lunch, and Remus staring wide-eyed at him. At one point, he started feeling uncomfortable, but Remus told him to eat his fill now as opposed to eating twice that at breakfast the next day.

Remus showed him to his room when Harry started to yawn. He wasn't in there ten minutes before he heard a knock, for want of a better word, at the window. He opened it, and Hedwig flew in with Pig behind her. The former flew into her cage and sat on her perch, cooing softly. The latter flew into Harry's head and bounced onto his bed. The tiny owl was carrying a letter larger than he was.

__

Dear Harry,

You're staying with Professor Lupin? Wow, you're going to learn so much! I'm jealous.

"Only Hermione would be jealous of learning," Harry mumbled as Pig flew around his head.

__

I suppose Ron probably told you, but I'm not going to Bulgaria. Mum and Dad really didn't want me going after they read an article on Durmstrang. I can see their point, I suppose. Viktor didn't seem too angry when I told him, but he did send me some good news. He's getting married. I'm really happy for him, and maybe now Ron will believe me when I tell him we're just friends. The prat. Honestly, can't he see

Anyway, I should go now. I can't wait for school to start. Mum and Dad are taking me to get my Hogwarts books on August first, if we get the letter by then. I wonder who the new Prefects will be and Defence Against the Dark Arts professor will be?

Love,

Hermione

He mentally shook his head in Hermione's general direction. He loved school, in very much the same way he loved butterbeer. Hermione also loved school, but more in the way that Dobby loved socks.

Harry took the twins' letter from the floor, where Hedwig had dropped it. "Making yourself at home, are you?" he asked her. She merely stared back. However, if ever a beak was capable of it, she was smirking.

__

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on becoming a silent partner in Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and Official Test Guinea Pig. Well, you and Percy, except you have warning.

Once we get ourselves properly set up, we wholly expect you to frequent our shop. It's good publicity: Harry Potter shops here, so it must be good. Hey, that's not bad. Keep this letter in case we need to copy it.

You should know, our dear sweet elder brother Percy swears up and down that he heartily disapproves of our endeavour. It must be going well then.

Thanks again for the money, mate. Really. Any time you need a tainted snack, it's all yours.

George and Fred Weasley

PS Are your fingers purple yet? It took a while to work out the potion.

"What? Ack!" Harry's fingers were, indeed, purple. As were the rest of his hands up to his wrists. They'd moved beyond just food, apparently. Now he'd have to treat every school supply sitting innocently in the common room as something dangerous, as it likely would be.

Harry put the letters on his desk, making sure to keep Fred and George's far away from the others. He didn't know what it might still do.

He laid down, hoping he wouldn't be entirely purple the next day, and fell asleep, trying to remember what he'd been thinking when he gave them the money.

**__**

Another Note: For those of you who enjoy spoilers and know anything about the DBZ universe, feel free to read my James back-story, "The Legacy of James: Onyx Eyes".


	5. Entering the Forest

**__**

Disclaimer: There must be some kind of statute of limitations on how long an author can claim a work without doing anything with it. As soon as it expires, I so call dibs.

Harry did not wake up purple, as he had feared.

He was green.

He didn't know how they did it, why they did it, or what they did it with, but he was green.

Harry sighed and slipped on a robe from his trunk. Fortunately, it didn't turn green with him. He put on his glasses and walked downstairs. Remus was sitting in the dining room, where enough food to feed a small army of Weasleys sat near him. Pancakes, waffles, bacon, eggs, breakfast rolls… the list was enormous.

"Dobby thought he should be ready, just in case," Remus explained without looking up. Then, when he did, he stated, "You're remarkably green today. You weren't wandering around the old Marauder stuff, were you?"

"No," Harry replied, sitting down and taking a plate of waffles. "The Weasley twins sent me a letter."

"Reminiscent of the Marauders at our best," he said with admiration. "We've all been coloured various hues in our time… James once turned Sirius pink for a week."

"That's mean. Brilliant, but mean."

"Oh, that's not the worst of it. When Sirius was pink, Padfoot was pink. And a pink Grim strikes terror into the hearts of no one."

Harry very nearly shot pumpkin juice out of his nose from laughing so hard. And, with Harry's appetite, that would have been a lot of pumpkin juice.

Remus cleared his throat slightly. "You know Harry, I didn't just invite you to share Marauder stories and have you eat me out of house and home," he said. Harry looked guilty for a moment, but Remus rephrased what he'd said. "That is, not _only_ to share stories and have you eat me out of house and home. I knew what to expect with your appetite."

Harry swallowed. "I thought so. Your letter said something about being the something of my something with the house blowing up."

"Oh, that was just to scare the Muggles," Moony grinned. "But Dumbledore _did_ want you to learn some Defence before you went back to school. What with you having been instructed by two agents of Voldemort and an idiot and all."

"Er… great. When do we start?"

Remus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the table. Seeing where he was going with it, Harry grabbed as much toast as he could before Remus Banished the dishes into the kitchen. "Now."

~*~

"I trust you remember the obstacle course you had in your third year?" Moony asked once they were outside. The grounds surrounding Moony Manor were huge, and aside from a small shed Harry assumed was used for moonlight transformations, wild. It was a bit like the Burrow, but with a certain control over the overgrowth.

"Yeah…"

Remus waved his wand and a ball of light appeared in front of one of the denser parts of the plant life. It was near an opening Harry hadn't seen before. "I hope you're ready to do another."

Harry brushed the hair out his eyes with a green hand. "How long is it?" he asked.

"Depends on which path you take. This light," he said, motioning toward the floating sphere, "will follow you, so you'll be able to see whatever dangers pop up. And so I'll be able to see your progress," he added, holding up a piece of parchment. It showed the expanse of the forest, which was what the light was "looking" at.

Harry gulped and approached the opening. As soon as it could "see" Harry, the ball floated directly behind him. He took one deep breath and rushed into the forest.

At first, there was nothing but darkness, but the ball caught up with him quickly. A set of paths lie before him, which Harry assumed led to other paths, and so on.

"Hello," said… something behind him.

"What?" he responded intelligently. "Where are you? _Who_ are you?"

"I am above you," said the voice. Harry looked up and saw a dark serpent hanging from a high branch. "And my name isssss Kate," the snake added.

"Kate?"

"It'ssss short for Bob."

__

Must be an adder, Harry thought. Out loud, he said, "You live in this forest?"

"Yessss," Kate replied.

"Then you wouldn't happen to know what lies in each direction, would you?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I do. On your left, there liessss a blanket of darknesssss. I would advissse againsssst going that way. The middle path leadssss to a vile sssserpent. He issss sssstupid, and will offer you little challenge. The right path issss by far the worssst. It leadssss to a… mongoosssse." If it were possible, the snake would have shivered. "Take care, young one."

Harry stared for a moment at where the snake had been and tried to piece it together. He knew that the darkness had to be a Lethifold. But why would a mongoose offer a threat?

Harry shrugged and started down the path on the right. Before he got halfway, he heard a familiar voice screaming in his head. "_No… please, not Harry…_"

__

A Dementor? Harry thought. _I thought it was a mongoose!_

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at his would-be captor before he could even see it. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted.

__

But wait… are you afraid of a mongoose? said some part of his mind. "It's a boggart," he muttered. "Riddikulus!"

Harry wasn't fond of boggarts or Dementors, and he didn't want to chance running into any more of either. He backtracked to the first set of paths and chose the middle. After all, with the boggart out of the way, what was the danger in a snake?

As soon as he was through the path, he heard an odd sound, a bit like an amount of plants gripping each other rather quickly in a fashion that would create an impenetrable wall. Harry turned around quickly, and saw that, indeed, an amount of plants had gripped each other in such a fashion as to create an impenetrable wall.

Harry prodded the vines with his wand. "That is one impenetrable wall," he said. He then looked around and took note of what was there. "Where's this snake?" he asked no one.

So you can understand how shocked he was to receive an answer.

"I wouldn't say 'snake', Potter," said an unnaturally high voice. "Although I am a Slytherin."

"Riddle," Harry whispered. "But you're… well, not so much dead…"

"Whatever, whatever, Potter." Harry still couldn't see where the voice was coming from, and having fought Tom Riddle before, he felt he should. The light wasn't much help either, since, being behind his head, it cast a shadow in his line of sight.

"Lumos!" Harry finally cried, growing tired of being blind. The beam of light sprang forth from his wand and illuminated a tall, black haired young man, not too much unlike Harry himself.

Riddle jumped at Harry and, before Harry could stop him, stole his wand. Now Harry was once again hampered vision-wise, but it was more important that he was unarmed.

"Stupid boy," Riddle spat. "I am the most powerful wizard of a thousand lifetimes." He raised Harry's wand and leveled it at him. "Stupefy!"

Harry didn't waste time thinking. As the spell rushed toward him, he jumped straight into the air. The Stunning Spell rushed by his feet and hit the trunk of a tree, and rebounded at Riddle himself. Unprepared, he took a clear hit in the chest.

Harry leapt for his wand as it fell from Riddle's hand and grabbed it before it hit the ground. He turned quickly to face Tom and was briefly blinded by the ball of light Remus had sent with him. After blinking a few times, Harry rushed to the fallen Tom Marvolo Riddle and leveled his wand at his head. "You're finished, Tom."

Suddenly, Riddle faded away and a formerly impenetrable wall behind him became very penetrable. Harry, who wanted to get away from the forest before it changed its mind, rushed through the opening and out into fresh air. The light dissipated as soon as he was out.

"So Harry, have fun?" Remus grinned.

"Loads," Harry said sarcastically. Then he brightened. "Time for lunch?"

**__**

Did you ever want to smack yourself for not being able to write for days, and then getting a sudden burst of inspiration at the exact moment you had to go to bed?

Yeah.


	6. Chatting? FMail? Teleflame?

**__**

Disclaimer: Ron and Hermione don't own Harry Potter. Now, this may not seem relevant at first, but go with me. If they owned it, they would give it to someone more than willing to write pointless fluffy tripe about them. Since I obviously don't own it, JKR must still have it.

After lunch, (during lunch, actually; Harry kept eating long after Remus was done) Moony sat down with Harry to discuss his performance in the woods.

"You're lucky I forgot about the snakes in there," he said, looking at the parchment. "I originally planned for you to just go up against whatever you met."

Harry grunted amicably.

"I was a little worried about the boggart and the Nemesio," Remus continued. Harry gave him an inquisitive look, and Remus explained. "A Nemesio is a creature that makes you relive your greatest battle. It can't really cause any significant harm, so a lot of people keep them as guards. Anyway, I am shocked that it didn't make you relive… you know." Remus coughed and turned a little red.

Harry swallowed. "I think it's because, with Lord Voldemort, I was only fighting for my life."

"Only?"

"Well, with Tom Riddle, I was fighting for Ginny's as well." He very suddenly had the odd urge to write to Ginny and ask how she was.

"What was he saying?" Remus asked.

"You don't get audio with that thing?"

"Well, yes, but your entire conversation was in Parseltongue."

"It was mostly taunting and bragging. That light you gave me was kind of useless though." Harry took another slice of roast beef from a plate in front of him and put it on his plate. "My head cast a shadow. And it got in my eyes at one point."

Remus laughed aloud, then stopped when he realised Harry wasn't laughing with him. "You're… joking, right?" asked Remus. Harry shook his head. "That ball of light… it's called a Luxivis, it… got in your eyes?" Harry nodded. "That's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because it moves at the speed of light. It _is_ light. Harry… do you know what this means?"

"The spell isn't all it's cracked up to be?" Harry hazarded a guess.

"It means that you have exceeded the speed of light."

Harry stared into space for a moment. Whenever the science-fiction programmes Dudley watched mentioned the speed of light it usually involved big lights and fancy sound effects. Harry didn't recall much of that. "It was probably just accidental magic," Harry hypothesised. "I mean, maybe I slowed it somehow when I jumped over Riddle's Stunning Spell." Harry finished his plate and Banished it to the kitchen.

Moony looked in no way convinced, but nodded anyway. "Why don't you… go… do something?" he stammered, wandering in the general direction of the fireplace.

~*~

In his time in the magical world, Harry had learned many things. However, the one he thought most important at the moment was that wizards very rarely use their fireplaces for heat. That's why, when he saw Moony head for the fireplace, he went to his trunk and fetched his father's Invisibility Cloak.

"…_over_ the curse! Like it was nothing!" Moony was saying when Harry came near the fireplace. He wasn't entirely sure how talking through the fires worked, but he knew what to expect.

Sure enough, there was a head in the fireplace. A very old head. Specifically, a head of about one hundred and fifty. _He called Dumbledore… called? Is that the verb?_ Harry thought.

"He is a very special young boy, Remus," Dumbledore's head said.

"Special doesn't begin to describe it," said Remus. "Have I told you about his appetite?"

"No more than James, I would imagine," Dumbledore replied with a youthful grin.

"You'd be shocked."

"At any rate, Remus, it's not that unusual. Harry is at about the age where he eats an extraordinary amount. Perhaps something he ate would explain how he did his abnormal acrobatics against the Nemesio."

"It might. Let me think… waffles, eggs, bacon, eggs and bacon, eggs and sausage, eggs and sausage and bacon, pancakes, pancakes and waffles, ham, beef… no, nothing unusual. In fact, you'd think that kind of thing would weigh him down."

Harry's stomach threatened to growl at the mention of such food. He closed his eyes and thought about Quidditch.

"It's nothing to worry about, Remus. Harry will need whatever skills he can acquire," Dumbledore went on. "And I've decided to have an extra curricular self-defence class."

"A duelling club?"

"No, physical self defence. The students will have to know how to function in the world without a wand."

Harry backed away. He'd have to write Ron and Hermione to tell them. Hermione'd probably sign up just so that there'd be something else for her to know.

As he was walking, he unfortunately collided with a footrest, which very nearly sent him to the ground. He leapt and tried to regain his balance in the air. When he landed, he was grateful to the Dursleys for the first time. Their presence had instilled a subconscious urge to watch his step, so to speak, and he didn't make any noise when he landed.

"I'm sure Harry will do well with it," Harry heard Remus say before he left.

"I'm sure he will," Dumbledore replied.

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought that Dumbledore winked at him before he went upstairs.

~*~

Harry prodded Errol, who was asleep next to Hedwig. "Oi there. You ready to go home yet?"

Errol hooted softly. He wasn't sure how far away Ottery St. Catchpole was from… wherever it was Moony Manor was located, but he thought that a couple short letters would be fine.

Harry sat down and pulled out a quill.

__

Dear Ron, he wrote.

__

I've just heard the oddest news. Remus was talking to Dumbledore in the fire (I'm not sure what the actual term is for that) and apparently Dumbledore is planning to have a self-defence class. Not magical, like a duelling club, but physical. He'd have to hire a wizard, though, if it's for school… do you know of any famous wizard fighters?

First in the league? It has to be Wood then. I can't imagine anyone else pulling them out. You know, when I got the Firebolt, he somehow gave Professor McGonagall the impression that Quidditch was more important than my well being. Imagine.

Congratulations on Hermione not going to Bulgaria. I'm sure now you can see why you didn't want her to go?

I'm going to go now. I have to write to Hermione and Fred and George. Do me a favour. If anything odd happens to them after they get my letter, laugh evilly.

Harry

"Hurry up and come to your senses," Harry whispered.

Harry wrote a similar letter to Hermione, stating in no uncertain terms that he would not send her copies of whatever work he did while he was Moony's charge.

He then wrote another letter, this time to Fred and George.

__

Dear George, Fred, and whoever else might read this,

Very funny. I'll have you know I am green now. I look like a Slytherin. An Irish Slytherin. Why did I give you the money again?

Seriously though, thanks for giving Ron the robes. Well, you probably would have done it anyway, but thanks for not doing anything to them.

Good luck with your Wheezes. Just don't get caught this time, okay?

Harry

Harry looked at his letter and decided it was missing a certain something. Confident he would be done with Dumbledore by this time, Harry went to his teacher.

Remus was sitting on the chair in front of the fire reading the newspaper when Harry found him.

"Hello, Harry. Need anything?" Remus asked.

"You wouldn't have anything to turn someone pink, would you?" Harry grinned.

**__**

Not just pink. Oh no. Evil isn't as much fun that way. We're talking bright, vibrant, hot pink that may or may not glow in the dark.


	7. Boxers or Something

**__**

Disclaimer: A definite date has been set for Order of the Phoenix, you heard that? Meaning that I have until June to finish this piece of crap, then it becomes a fifth-year AU. Well, technically, with the upcoming characters, it'll be an AU anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter, does it?

Unless, of course, I truly am JK Rowling, and you don't know it. I don't feel like a pregnant woman, but then, having never been one before, I wouldn't know how it feels, now would I?

His eavesdropping was weighing heavily on Harry's conscience for some reason. Logically, he knew he'd listened to more conversations than he cared to count, but most of those had been accidental.

After dinner, Harry approached Remus, who was reading in a chair near the fire. "I have something I need to tell you," he admitted.

"You sneaked upstairs, grabbed your Invisibility Cloak, put it on and eavesdropped on mine and Professor Dumbledore's private conversation, and therefore you know that you are even more unusual than before and that you will be taking a class on physical self-defence," Remus said without looking up from his book.

Harry blinked, then blinked again, then rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Perhaps I should pay more attention in Divination," Harry said sheepishly.

"No you shouldn't. I knew you did because I heard you. And because Dumbledore saw you. And…" he looked up at Harry, "because it's what your father would have done."

"Really?"

"Well, he would have had the sense _not_ to admit it. Or to be caught in the first place."

"Er… I'm sorry."

Moony laughed. "Don't be. I think you left before you heard everything though, so do you want me to fill you in?"

"Of course."

"Dumbledore winked at you just after he said he was starting the class, right? Professor Dumbledore says the professor's very famous when he comes from."

"_When_?"

"Something involving a time-turner, I think. Anyway, he never got a proper magical education, so Professor Dumbledore is offering him tutelage in exchange for his teaching martial arts."

"Wow, I sort of wish I hadn't sent out my letters."

Remus suddenly looked alarmed. "What? Who did you tell?"

"Just Ron and Hermione."

"Oh," Remus said, calming down. "Right. Good, because even you weren't strictly supposed to find out."

"Why is that?"

"Can't tell you, Harry. Sorry."

This was, Harry thought, starting to resemble last year. Right down to a mysterious new teacher and people keeping secrets.

"What's the professor's name?" Harry asked.

"I don't recall. Something odd, I think. Boxers, or something."

~*~

Harry took a shower that night and, thanks to a potion from Remus, came out looking fresh and flesh-toned.

He left the bathroom and fell into his bedroom vaguely wishing his glasses weren't such a necessity. After dressing for sleep, he flopped onto his bed and unceremoniously wrapped himself in his covers.

Soon, he couldn't feel the blankets anymore. Nor could he feel his bed beneath him. He opened his eyes and, though he knew he wasn't wearing his glasses, he could see perfectly.

He saw two short men, one with short hair, and one whose hair made up more of his height than his body. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were arguing. A pretty blonde-haired woman and a taller woman with bluish hair stood on one side. Harry got the distinct feeling that they were the wives of the arguing pair. The blonde was very pregnant, he could tell, and the blue woman held a small lavender-haired child in her arms. He felt himself walking up to the group but not of his own accord. The shorthaired man stopped arguing and turned to greet Harry.

Harry looked around and felt his lips form words. "Where's Mom?" he asked. At least, he thought he asked, as he couldn't hear it. He wasn't sure why he asked this, as he had never known his mother, and never would have said "Mom" in his life.

The longhaired man said something, and motioned in a dismissive way. This earned him a glare from the blue-haired woman, but he felt his own lips grin. He turned, and saw a very tall and very green man that looked not altogether unlike a merperson with legs. He was walking alongside a black-haired woman and carrying a child with messy black hair.

Harry felt a very odd feeling that he'd only ever felt at the Burrow. He was surrounded by _family_. His family. His mother, his brother, his friends… they were all there. Even though he had no idea who (or what, in the green man's case) these people were, he knew that they loved him.

Suddenly, he felt himself waking up. The world faded around him, turning dark. Soon, it was only him, and then, nothing at all.

~*~

Harry woke up the next morning feeling oddly refreshed. Of course, in most situations, sleep was used in order to become refreshed, but in Harry's case, it very rarely worked out like that. Sleep was used for information gathering, reliving the past, and getting to tomorrow sooner.

Harry double-checked the mirror before he went downstairs to be sure he was still a normal colour, and, when he was sure, he went down to breakfast. Dobby greeted him, not so much politely as… exuberantly. "Harry Potter, sir! Dobby was bringing you breakfast!" he exclaimed.

"Why's that Dobby?"

"Harry Potter was sleeping very late, sir! Professor Moony was telling Dobby to check on you!"

Harry shook his head. "It can't be that late. It's only…" he checked the clock, "ten fifty-nine." As he said that, he heard the clock chime its eleven times. "Ten sixty then," he grinned.

Dobby pushed a plate rather forcefully into Harry's hands. "Harry Potter should be eating! Nippy is saying that growing humans should be eating a lot sir!"

"Nippy?" Harry asked.

"Nippy is a house elf of Dumbledore's. He more or less runs the kitchen staff at Hogwarts," said a voice from behind Harry. He turned to see a grinning Moony shaking a finger at Harry. "Just what did you drink last night to keep you in bed for so long?"

"Sorry. But why didn't you wake me for training?" Harry asked.

"Well, I had planned for the forest to keep you occupied for the next couple of days. However, you seem to have blown that idea out of the water," Remus said. "So I suppose you have a day off while I try to come up with something else to keep a growing boy such as yourself on his toes."

Before Harry could respond, or indeed say anything, he was dragged off by Dobby to the dining room.

~*~

"Aren't you going to eat, Dobby?" Harry asked. Dobby stared at him for a couple seconds, then broke into tears. _Oy,_ Harry thought.

"Dobby is sorry, sir. Dobby has never been asked to eat with humans, sir, like…" he couldn't continue.

"An equal," Harry finished. "Of course you're an equal. You're my friend, aren't you?"

Dobby was quite obviously torn between crying his very large eyes out and leaping across the table to hug Harry. He settled for both.

"Ack!" Harry cried. "Okay. Yeah. Okay Dobby. I need those ribs, thanks."

After Dobby sat down and got himself a plate (and a sponge to wipe up his tears) Harry asked, "You wouldn't know of a race that's very tall and green?"

Dobby thought for a moment, then said, "When Dobby was in the employ of his old masters, sir, Dobby heard rumours from the other house-elves. They were saying that there were big green men in another place, sir. And one of them had _horrible_ power, sir, but then, suddenly, he wasn't horrible anymore."

"Why not?"

"Dobby does not know, sir. He only heard the rumour."

~*~

Remus watched Harry and Dobby from the doorway and grinned. All this hullabaloo about house-elf rights, and here was one having breakfast with the Boy-Who-Lived.

He recalled something Harry said about Hermione being obsessed with house-elf freedom. As long as there were people like Harry around, she wouldn't have to worry.

**__**

Ten House points to whoever can name all the characters hinted at. Bonus if you can tell me in whose point of view Harry was. Double bonus if you can tell me how he's related to Harry.

Oh, and because I keep forgetting, I express to girl-whose-email-I-lost my most humble expression of thanks for the fanart she drew me. Since she was the only one who sent it, I imagine she'll know who she is. And I'm sorry I lost your email. Hotmail is a harsh mistress.


End file.
